In Kracow I went out for a night at the dancing with Dave and a fine young American fellow of the name of Nick. During the course of the night I met a lovely girl called Ena. We hit it off and we set a rendezvous for 2pm the next day, at the Bell Tower, and there was some mention of trombones that I remember. Ena set the location. The next day, wanting to be sure I got the right place, I googled the bell tower and kracow to see if it was the place I thought. The photos confirmed what I thought, and at the allotted hour, off I went. I waited and waited at the tower (next to a sign of a saxophone, which I figured accounted for the trombone), but no-one showed. In the end Dave came by and we went off for a beer, me feeling a little miserable in a brand new T shirt (that I had not bought specially for occasion, oh no).

It was only later that I found out from Nick that I waited in the wrong place, so Ena likely felt as bad about the whole thing as I did.

So if you know a civil engineer, recently graduated from Cork Uni, living in London going by the name of Ena (or a phoneme thereof), tell her I waited in the wrong place.


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